Prima Ballerina *Jelena Ballerina Series* (Part 1)

Chapter 4: The Almost Run-In

Selena's P.O.V.

In my splits, I arch my back and drop my head back. Forrest is behind me, stretching out his center splits. Perfect as ever. He smiles and I return one. My eyes then travel up to the clock. Hopefully, since I am upside down I am reading the time wrong because it reads right on the dot of three o'clock.

I bring my head up and break my splits. My knees tuck in and my arms wrap around them as I spin around and stop once I face Forrest. As I spin around, I caught a glimpse of some of my competitors. Only forty of us fit in this room. 

"Forrest, please tell me that I am reading the wrong time," I beg. He takes himself out of the splits then spreads his legs out in a V. He can spread them wider, but he wants to stay close to the range I can put my legs at. Our feet glue together. We take each other's hands and I pull him forward.

In the stretch, he says, "I'm afraid so." He tugs me forward then signals for me to look out the door. In two seconds, it opens. Our feet peel away from each other's and we spring up to our feet. I go ahead of Forrest so I can be at the front of the group. He will easily be able to see over everyone with his great height.

Through the door comes Miss B. The studio owner, who is also an instructor for all ages, is a short dark haired petite woman. She is in a nice, wine red dress and has her famous smile on her face. Her maiden name is Pattie Mallette, which she went back to after her divorce. But she insists that we still call her Miss B.

Not because her previous last name was Bieber, but because she wanted it to stand for ballet. She says that there were only two good things to come out of her marriage. 1) Her son and 2) Her last name. Her son has failed to make an appearance at the studio.

She clasps her hands twice. Immediately, we all close our mouths and face her in first position. The excitement along with the nerves bundle inside of me. Her hands go behind her back as she walks across the floor and examines everyone in the room. She gives every competitor two seconds of her time then she would move on to the next one. I hold my breath when she looks at me. When she makes it to the other side of the room, she nods at us. 

"I would like to thank all of you for coming. You will all be in the third cycle of competitors. Your numbers can be found at the front desk. Only send one person to get the numbers for the entire room. Use your time wisely," she advises.

"Yes Miss B," we chant in unison.

Shortly after, she wishes us luck then makes a swift exit. All of us break our stance the second she is gone. Our minds are blown with the fact that this is actually happening. We all gather in a circle to determine who will be the one to get the numbers.

No one wants to sacrifice their precious time to get the numbers. We need to use our time wisely. Retrieving the numbers is a fatal damper to practicing ballet. I look across the circle and stare at Forrest. 

Already, I feel bad for him. He has to stand next to Resa. She has a smug look on her face since no one will dare her to get the numbers. Resa is well-known around here, more so for her prissy attitude. If anyone told her to retrieve the numbers, they might just end up with a broken Achille's tenant. 

We all stare each other down, realizing that all we are doing is wasting time. We can't allow this to consume any more of our time. In unison, we all nod and exchange a few looks between one another. 

Finally, we all stick our eyes on a scraggly red-headed girl that is younger than most of the people in tis room. Her legs are so skinny that I am surprised they are capable of holding her up. She has on glasses with thick black frames. Her freckled cheeks rise as she forms a big smile at all of us.